I Dream of Vikings
by BadGrad
Summary: Sookie, age 7, is a telepath and psychic. After her parents die in a flood, despite Sookie's warnings, she is left to a dark future with only visions of Eric to give her hope. Desperate to change her circumstances, Sookie shows up at Fangtasia looking for her "future lover" Eric. Humor/Romance/Adventure/ and a few tears too. Multiple POV. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Pam P.O.V**

If I didn't love my master, I'd never step foot in Louisiana. The humans here seem even worse than the humans in Minnesota. I'm comprising a list to present to Eric in hopes of convincing him to move. I ignore the fang-banger wiggling her ID in my face so that I can finish item number 8.

**Why You Should Listen To Your Child and Move Out of this God-Forsaken State: By. Pam**

1) At least 5 out of 10 humans here are obese. I don't do any pushin, so I don't need the extra cushion.

2) Everyone acts like Wal-Mart is an acceptable place to buy clothes. Its not.

3) The food they cook here smells especially disgusting. Even if you happen upon someone decent to snack on, when you get closer you realize they smell like fried chicken.

4) In addition to 3, Cajun seasoning makes blood taste rancid.

5) There are fewer lesbians here.

6) The lesbians that are here are generally stupid, as all smart lesbians have moved north.

7) People here sweat more. Not only can't they take they heat, but they also can't get out of the kitchen (see point 1).

8) The teenage pregnancy rate is so high that it's hard to find a 20-year-old without stretch marks.

I look over the list, proud I found a way to include two silly human phrases. Eric and I have a contest going to see who can use the most and I'm determined to win. So far Eric says he's winning, but I don't think he's even saying them right. Last night, when a potential meal turned me down because she was "straight" (I darken the period on number 5), he shouted something across the bar about "crashing and burning" and then told me to "get up on my horse and dust off, because there are other fish in the sea."

I'm almost certain that he got the phrase wrong, but I mistakenly agreed to let Ginger be the judge and she always just goes along with whatever "master" says. I'm about to work myself up about how stupid Ginger is again, when I'm distracted from my mental ramblings by the sound of disgruntled vermin and a delicious smell.

I look up, and am surprised to see a tiny human child making her way up the line. Her hair is blonde, the exact same shade as Eric's I notice, and she is barefoot and wearing wet pajamas. The pajamas have cats on them, I think; it's hard to tell because the majority of her is covered in mud. Despite this, she seems to be the source of the tasty smell.

"Excuse me mister," she says, as she passes a lanky Goth in a dog collar.

"Pardon me ma'am," she states, as she scoots past a brunette wearing a pleather mini skirt and nipple tassels.

As she gets closer, I notice that she's got a very pretty face for a mini-human. She has a cute little nose with a few light freckles running over the bridge, pink lips, round cheeks, and bright blue eyes. I also notice that her eyes and nose are red from crying.

"You," I point at a bleach-blonde in fishnets that is deliberately blocking the girl's path, "let the micro-human through."

I'm excited, but I can't even explain to myself why. While its true we never get little humans at Fangtasia, I normally hate them, so the novelty doesn't explain my improved mood. I credit the mouth-watering smell with my good spirits, and begin to devise a way to get Eric to let me break the "no biting small humans" rule.

"Hello there little girl," I say, flashing fang. "I'm going to go out on a limb here (Ha! Another phrase… I nod to the human bouncer so he can make note of it) and say that you are not 21."

"No ma'am," she says, in a rather sweet southern accent, "I'm 7."

"Well, little girl, this is not the place for you," I state, and I'm surprised to find that my voice actually sounds gentle. "Feel free to come back when you're 21 and practice safe-sex in the meantime" (I lightly trace over the last item on my list with my pen).

"Please don't say the S word, my Gran says its naughty. And I can't come back later," she pauses and looks me in the eye, "I need to see Mr. Eric."

I'm taken off-guard for the second time tonight. How does she know Eric? I'm going through likely scenarios in my head and get nothing. If I were going on hair color alone, I'd say that we were in for a live version of Maury in which Eric finds out that, yes, he is the father. However, Eric is a vampire so, no…Then I remember the bar started running TV commercials last week. Maybe she saw Eric in one of the ads and developed a crush on him. Is my maker the new Justin Bieber?

"I'm sorry, Eric is very busy. Perhaps you could find someone a little shorter to like?" Then, after I glance around again, "Where are your parents?"

I immediately know I've made some sort of mistake when the girl starts leaking.

"That's why I need to talk to Mr. Eric. Please just let me talk to him!" She's sobbing now and the fragrant smell of her delectable tears is somewhat marred by the river of snot running out of her nose. Lovely.

"Now little human," I stop and thwack her on the shoulder, "You need to stop leaking. I'll let you talk to Eric, but first you need to tell me who you are and why you need him."

She looks up at me again, wiping her tears away and rubbing her runny nose on her hand. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse ma'am. And I'm…" her eyes dart to the floor and her face takes on a crimson shade. "Well, I need Eric cause I'm gonna be his lover."

I burst out laughing, startling the vermin who have never even seen me crack a smile. This little scenario will not only provide ammunition against my maker for weeks, but it also gives me plenty of applicable human phrases to use. "Robbing the cradle" is already on the tip of my tongue and I know there will be others. So with a wicked gleam in my eye I allow the girl, Sookie, to pass and I regally state, "Follow me, mistress."

I'm sure Eric can hear my cackling all the way back in his office.


	2. Chapter 2

******AN: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed my story! I've been trying to PM everyone who left a review, but I'm a little behind. I was so happy to get such great feedback that I decided to post this a little early. This is the first time I've ever written anything for public consumption, and your reviews are extremely appreciated. **

******Also, I don't own these characters. Charlaine Harris does. If I did own them, the last couple of books would have been much, much different.**

* * *

******Eric P.O.V**

"Yes, your majesty," I mutter into the phone with as much interest as I can fake. "You are undoubtedly correct your highness."

I check my watch; it has now been 45 minutes that I have been on the phone with my queen. I listened for the first 5 minutes, in which she discussed a new edict and other relevant news, and I mentally left the conversation when she began to discuss color schemes for her annual ball. Do I seem like I even know what the fuck "chartreuse" is Sophie Anne?

"Of course you are right, if Russell used amaranth then you obviously cannot," I intone. Amaranth? I'm starting to think she's purposely fucking with me.

Never one to waste time, I've been multitasking as Sophie blathers on. Not only have I had dinner and a show – I took a red head on top of my desk while the queen discussed table linens – but I've also been making good use of google. Pam hasn't bested me yet, and I'm determined to use more stupid human phrases than her.

I look at the screen and become distracted by item number 62 on the list. "Colder than a witches tit." Witches are human, so surely their tits are the same temperature as other humans, right? I've studiously avoided bedding witches, as I'm a firm believer that magic and my dick don't mix, but I wonder if Pam has ever had a witch for a lover. If their breasts are especially cold, as the expression implies, then how does that translate to other, more titillating, body parts?

"I'd be like ice-fishing with your dick," I murmur.

"What did you say Northman?" Sophie Anne snaps.

Without a second's hesitation I reply, "I said, 'that'd do the trick' your majesty. Yes, the aubergine sounds perfect. Now, if you'll excuse me, there seems to be an issue in the bar."

"You are excused Sheriff, and I agree about the aubergine. I will speak to you again next week." And, with that, she finally hung up.

Quickly putting the fascinating conversation with my queen behind me, I eagerly set back to work. Unfortunately, I've already completed my area reports and there are no pressing matters to adjudicate tonight. I find myself bored again.

If I'm being honest with myself, boredom has been my constant companion as of late. When you are a thousand years old, you become accustomed to stretches of time where boredom sets in, but I've been feeling it more acutely in the past months. Revealing ourselves to the humans has had many benefits, but recognition has come with a price. Monotony.

I'm pulled from my rather bleak reverie by the sound of Pam's laughter. Pam is actually quite a light-hearted creature, but I'm surprised that she is laughing in public. Usually she keeps her bitch-face on when out in the open.

As she approaches I hear, "Oh master, wait till you see what I have for you. She's blonde, tan, and smells better than anything I've ever come across."

I excitedly lean forward in my chair, not because of Pam's words, but because of the enchanting smell that reaches my nose as she says them. I'm somewhat put out when Pam stops and knocks on my office door instead of bringing my dessert straight in.

"Eric, do you have company?" She asks. "I think our guest might be a bit shy if you're already occupied."

I'll admit to being a bit confused by Pam's words. Usually if I'm in the middle of entertaining a fang-banger, Pam has no problem just waltzing in. Once, when Shreveport hosted a national college cheerleading competition, Pam set up a queue of women that wound all the way down the hall, past the dumpsters, and out into the parking lot. Needless to say, she was not one for modesty.

"I'm alone Pam, bring her in." I'm having trouble keeping my fangs in I'm so excited! That is, until Pam opens the door.

My fangs retract and my dick's gone soft before the "blonde" is even all the way in the room. Instead of a tasty treat, my eyes take in the form of a small child. She's very short, even for a young one, and she's covered in mud and sopping wet.

What. The. Fuck.

"Pam, what is the meaning of this?" I grind out.

"Now, don't be shy master, after all, she says she's to be your lover." Pam, seemingly oblivious to my glare, continues with apparent glee. "I'd been wondering where you've gotten off to when you're supposed to be enthralling vermin and it seems I have my answer. Do you just hang out at the Toys 'R Us across the parking lot or do you also visit the local elementary schools?"

"Haha, very funny Pamela. Now return it to its mother before they report her missing and we end up arrested."

"But master, I did not take her. Sookie came here for you. Talk about robbing the cradle Eric! I've heard of May, December romances but this is a step too far..."

"Enough!" I cut off her inane ramblings, "Explain now. And what is a Sookie?"

Pam is about to answer when she is cut off by a soft, pleasant voice.

"Me, sir," says the tiny human whose eyes are currently glued to my shoes. "I'm a Sookie. Well, I mean, that's my name sir. And don't worry about being arrested or nothin' like that, nobody is looking for me."

Tears begin to run down her cheeks at her last words, and I surprise myself by rushing over to her.

"Errr…um. Don't cry little one. Why don't you take a seat on my couch and we'll figure out a way to call your family." I take the girl's hand (again surprising myself, I normally hate touching young humans, they are always sticky) and lead her over to the couch. I have to bend so far down to reach her that I think my back would be permanently disfigured if I were human.

"Why don't you explain why you're here liten flicka? Who brought you to my bar?"

She wipes furiously at her tears, but cannot seem to stop leaking. Finally, she removes what appears to be a small stuffed cuddle toy from the pocket of her pajama pants and clutches it to her chest. It might be a cat, like the ones on her pink pajamas, but I can't tell because its too water logged. Whatever the toy may be, she seems to get some sort of comfort from it, because she manages to calm down enough to speak.

"I brought myself here in a taxi." She whispers. "I'm here because I need you to help me. I know that you are the only one who can do it Mr. Eric." She looks up at me and her bright blue eyes seem to cut right through me.

I catch her gaze and give her my best glamour. "You will stop crying. You will tell me what you want from me. You will feel happy as you do this."

I notice Pam staring at me from the corner of my eye with an astonished look on her face. She is no doubt shocked that I even care what the young one wants from me. I am surprised also, but all I am certain of in this moment is that the girl's tears make me uncomfortable. I wish for her to smile.

However, my uncertainty grows when the girl continues to leak and does not look one iota happier. Does my glamour not work on children? I know I had to have glamoured a few in my existence.

"Can I tell you at your house Mr. Eric? My head is getting worser and worser. I can't keep everyone out. There are too many people and they are all thinkin' about grown-up things. I don't like hearing their thoughts, they are too gross."

Instantly alert, I ask, "Sookie did you just say that you hear people's thoughts?"

"Yes, sir."

Well, that's decidedly not boring.


	3. Chapter 3

******AN: Thanks again to everyone who reads, favorites, follows, and reviews. I can't describe how nice it is to hear from y'all. This chapter doesn't exactly bring the funny, but it should at least answer _some_ questions. **

******Also, I still don't own Sookie, Pam, or Eric. Charlaine Harris does. If I did own them, they'd all be a lot happier and the only mention of Oklahoma would be when they discuss the musical review they're hosting at Fangtasia.**

******Sookie P.O.V**

Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream. Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.

It isn't working. I need to think it louder. I just want the voices to go away!

ROW, ROW, ROW YOUR BOAT GENTLY DOWN THE STREAM, MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY, LIFE IS BUT A DREAM!

I can tell Mr. Eric is saying something to me, but I'm thinking too loud to pay attention. I shut my eyes and cover my ears so I can concentrate more on the song.

ROW, ROW, ROW YOUR BOAT GENTLY DOWN THE STREAM, MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY… I feel a hand on my shoulder and, just like that, the voices get quiet.

"Oh my gosh! Its you! I can't hear you!" I look at Mr. Eric, who is crouched down in front of me, and give him my biggest smile.

"I asked if you are all right, Sookie." He says really, really slowly. He's giving me that look people give me when they think I'm a few Fruit Loops short of a bowl of cereal. I'm used to it, but it still hurts my feelings a little. I'm about to explain it to him when he moves to take his hand off of my shoulder.

"Don't move!" I say. Or, ok, maybe I screamed it.

Mr. Eric and the Barbie vampire are both staring at me now. Mr. Eric looks concerned, but Barbie looks just like Jason did when my daddy gave him a go-kart last Christmas. Her smile is so big that I'm pretty sure I could count all her teeth if I wanted. I giggle a little to myself when I imagine her dressed up like the Count on Sesame Street. I can just see her now, "One, two, shiny vampire teeth. Three, four, shiny vampire teeth…" I start to giggle again, but then I notice that the vampires have raised their eyebrows and realize that they probably think I'm nuttier than peanut butter.

"Ummm, sorry Mr. Eric. I'm sorry 'bout yelling at you. Its just that I can't hear your head voice at all and, uhhhh, when you touch me, everyone else is so much quieter," I take a deep breath because even I think I sound a little crazy now. "That's why I need you to keep touching me, please." I finish and wait for him to kick me out.

Mr. Eric shakes his head a little, but he doesn't move his hand. "You can call me Eric, Sookie, you don't have to say mister. Now, why don't you explain what you are doing here, and then we can call your mommy and you can go home."

I try not to let his words bother me. I'm not gonna think about momma or daddy right now. Instead, it reminds me of my plan and I remember the taxi man who is waiting in the parking lot.

"I'll tell you, Mr – I mean – Eric," I blush because I'm not used to calling grown-ups by their first names. "But first, I need you to mind magic the taxi man."

"Mind magic?" Eric tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy.

"You know, where you tell someone what to do and then they do it. I know you can, I've seen you do it before."

"Sookie, I know that we have never met before. How do you know about glamour?" Eric is looking a lot less curious and a lot more mad.

"You did it once in one of my special dreams. You can use mind magic, and fly, and run really fast, and all kinds of super hero stuff. I've seen you a bunch of times. That's why I know you'll help me. You always do." I don't mention that every time he helps me in the dreams, I'm a grown-up. I figure he'll help me anyway. Probably.

"You have 'special dreams' and you read minds." He's looking excited again. "What else can you do?"

"Isn't that enough?" I ask. Geez Louise, there's no pleasing some people. "Now are you gonna mind magic him for me or not?" I know I'm being rude, but I'm sleepy and I had a real bad day.

"What do you want me to do to him?"

"Nothing bad, just make sure that he doesn't remember me at all."

Eric gives me a weird look that I can't figure out and then nods to himself. "Pam"

Barbie, who I now know is Pam, looks annoyed. "Why can't you do it master? Age is supposed to go before beauty, so you should go. I want to stay with the little morsel."

Eric doesn't even answer; he just looks at her again.

"Fine! But don't say anything else until I get back snack pack, you hear me?" She's points at me and then walks very slowly to the door, scraping her feet along the ground like I do when I don't wanna go to school.

"Wait, I owe him money!" I call out. I almost forgot that I didn't pay. I don't care if he doesn't remember giving me a ride; he still gave it. If I didn't pay, then that be like stealing and stealing is bad. Gran says that hot hands lead to a cold heart and, even though I don't really know what it means, I know she'd be real mad if I stole something.

I lift up my pajama shirt and unzip the fanny pack that I belted on underneath it. It's just as wet as the rest of me, but that doesn't matter. Inside is a zip lock bag with the money from the bottom of the flour jar and everything I could fit from my house. I brought the lucky penny daddy gave me when I started Kindergarten, my momma's gold angel necklace that she wears every Sunday, a pocket-sized cross-stitch picture of a fairy that gran made me, my friendship bracelet from Tara, one of Jason's micro-machines, and a picture of everybody together at the church picnic.

Seeing all my stuff makes me sad, but I ignore it and get out some of the money to give to Pam. When I look up, I see that the vampires are staring at me again.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Pam says as she takes my money. Then, before I even get a chance to blink, she's out the door.

"Sookie," Eric says, and his tone is overly calm, like the way you talk to a spooked kitty when you're trying to get it to come out from under the bed. "Did you put your stuff in that plastic bag because you didn't want it to get wet?"

"Yes."

"So you are wet on purpose?"

"No."

"But you knew that you'd be getting wet?"

"Yes." I'd known all right, but nobody would listen. I prayed about it too, but not even God listened. At least I'd talked Jason into spending the night at Hoyt's. At least I did that.

"Why are you wet little one, what has happened?" I must look sad again, because Eric starts running his hand up and down my arm.

"What time is it?" I ask. I look around and spot a TV hanging on some sort of metal frame in the corner of the room.

"Almost 11, and you didn't answer my question. Sookie…" I don't know what else he was going to say because Pam walks back in the room and starts talking.

"What's this? You've been talking without me? After I specifically asked you not to! I'm so mad I could spit nails!" She gives Eric a pleased look after the part about the nails, but I don't understand why. Whatever the reason, Eric doesn't return the look.

"We are on a time out Pam." Pam huffs but doesn't say anything else. "Sookie…" Eric starts again, but I don't let him finish. I know a way to answer some of his questions, but I'm afraid.

"Turn on the TV, please. To channel 12 I think." I know channel 12 is the news channel, because when I spend the night at gran's she lets me stay up and watch it with her. We share a snack, watch the news, brush our teeth, and then she lets me sleep in her big bed with her. She even cuddles me until I fall asleep and, since she only ever thinks nice things about me, it doesn't even bother me one bit.

Eric doesn't look happy about it, but he goes over to his desk and picks up the remote. The voices get loud for a second but then, he's back, holding my arm again.

"This hardly seems to be the time for watching television." Pam says, but she turns to look at the screen as soon as Eric clicks it on.

I force myself to look, even though everything inside is telling me to hide. I bet they don't even know about it yet, I tell myself. But as soon as I see the reporter standing in front of the Crestcock Bridge, I know that I'm wrong.

My eyes are blurry from tears, but I can still hear just fine as the reporter says, "Tragedy struck in Bon Temps today, when an apparent flash flood caused a local family to lose control of their car on the Crestcock Bridge. Damage to the bridge indicates that they hit the guardrail and plummeted into the water below. The bodies of Corbett and Michelle Stackhouse, both 31, were recovered from the car a few moments ago. Their daughter, a special needs 7-year-old who went by the name of Sookie, is also presumed dead, though no body has been recovered at this time…"


	4. Chapter 4

******AN: Once again, thanks for reading, favoriting, following, and (especially) reviewing. I'm eager to see what y'all think about this one. ****Also, I don't own anyone or anything in the SVM series. I wish I did. Unfortunately, that honor goes to Charlaine Harris, the lucky wench ;-)**

**Pam P.O.V**

I look up at the TV and see a picture of the "dead girl." I look over to the couch and examine Sookie. Yep, definitely the same mini-being. I'm no longer referring to her as a human, because I no longer think she is one. Now the question becomes – what exactly is she?

First option: ghost. Perhaps that is why she smells so different; are ghosts especially delicious? I'd always imagined that they'd be more transparent and flavorless. Maybe she just appears this way to us because we are Vampire… When I was human, my nursemaid always said that only the dead can see the dead.

I run out of the office, grab the first waitress I see (Veronica or Vivian or something like that. One of Eric's "special" hires), and pull her into the room. I point at Sookie and ask, "Do you see that girl?"

"Um, yeah. I mean, she's sitting right there." Her reply is distracted because she's staring at Eric while simultaneously lowering her top, hitching up her skirt, and licking her lips. Sookie isn't really paying any attention, but Eric shoots me a dirty look and adds his free hand to Sookie's other shoulder.

Damn, not a ghost then. I glamour Vicki into believing that she came back here for the usual reasons and send her away.

Next option: zombie. I haven't heard of an actual zombie before but – despite Eric's insistence to the contrary – I've suspected that they exist for years. Besides, I also didn't know hobbits were real until I met Dr. Ludwig, and I was well into my 100's by then.

I think back to everything I've ever heard about zombies. In most movies they are shown to be rather stupid creatures, but humans are always getting facts about the supernatural wrong anyway. With this in mind, I ask, "Sookie, do you find that you are having strange cravings? For example, did you see the humans in line out front and think to yourself 'I'd like to crack their skulls open and sample some grey matter'?"

Sookie, who'd been leaking again, wipes her eyes and looks up at me. "No, that's nasty! Why would I do that?"

Eric interrupts before I get to answer and says with a scowl, "For the last time, there are no such things as zombies Pamela! She is alive; I'm touching her, remember? She is warm and has a pulse."

"It was a perfectly understandable question master. She is not human. Humans don't smell like her, or read minds, or have visions, or miraculously survive car accidents and appear at vampire bars." I don't add that she can't be human because I'm fighting the desire to brush the hair out of her face and wipe the tears from her eyes. Though I'd never give in to the impulse, just the fact that I have the inclination proves she isn't human. I'd never have these feelings about vermin!

Eric looks like he wants to scold me again, but can't deny that I have a point. He removes his hands from Sookie's shoulders and takes her tiny hand in his. "Young one, I know today has been hard for you, but Pam brings up a good point. We could better help you if we understood your nature."

Sookie just looks at him with her little face scrunched up in confusion.

"What he means, my pretty petit four, is that we need to know what you are." Seeing that she still doesn't understand, I add, "I'll go first. Me Pam, me vampire. You Sookie, you…" I gesture at her.

She looks thoughtful for a moment and then answers, "I don't really know. My brother says I'm a mutant like Professor X, or a witch like Hermione, but most people just think I'm crazy."

Eric looks thoughtful, "Though they are rare, I suppose that you could be a natural witch. I don't know of these mutants however, and who is this professor you speak of?"

Oh. My. Fuck. How many times have I told Eric that he is behind the times? Aside from his strange obsession with rap music (He claims to be the "original gangsta"), he completely ignores pop culture. I admonish him, "They are fictional characters Eric; they aren't real. Which you would know if you ever let me pick the movie!"

"You lost movie choosing privileges when you made me watch that one with the Californian Chihuahuas! And there is nothing wrong with documentaries or foreign films. However," he glances over at Sookie, who is yawning, "Now isn't really the time for discussions about the cinema. We need to be finding a way to return Sookie to her relatives. The news program mentioned a grandmother…"

"What? You can't do that!" Sookie yells, suddenly very awake. "They need to think I'm dead. Nothing good will happen if anyone knows I'm alive! Please!"

"Sookie, they will realize that you are alive when they do not find your body. And do you not want to see your brother and grandmother? You aren't thinking clearly small one." Eric's gentle tone just seems to make the girl angrier.

"I am too thinking clearly! Bad things will happen to everyone if I go live with gran. And I already looked it up on the computer in the school library; it said that the creek feeds into a swamp, so they'll just think I floated away and got eated by a gator. Plus, that's why I left my shoes in the car and called my gran before we left so that she knew I was with them. I thought about it lots!"

I sucked in some unnecessary air. "You mean that you purposely faked your death?"

"Yes, and the only person who saw me after was the taxi man. I had him waiting at the gas station and walked to him so that he wouldn't know where I came from. Plus, now he's mind magiced, so it should be fine."

"That's some Jason Bourne shit right there," I say with an impressed nod.

Eric looks considerably less impressed and much more confused. "How long have you known that this would happen? And how did you survive?"

Yes, I'd been wondering that also. I eagerly await the tiny 007's response.

"I've known for as long as I can remember. It's the first special dream I ever had, and I've had it more than 20 times." Sookie stops there and looks at the ground.

"And…" Eric prompts her to continue.

"And, I don't remember how I got out. I just did it." Sookie finishes lamely and, though I don't know why, I'm absolutely sure she is lying. I'm rather surprised to realize that, of all the fantastical things Sookie has told us today, I only really question this. She seems to be truthful about everything else.

Eric also looks disbelieving, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead he asks, "If you are supposed to be dead, where will you go? Do you have a place to stay?"

Sookie doesn't answer and it displeases me to see that her eyes are filling with tears again. I roll my eyes at Eric, "It is obvious that she intends to stay with you master. She can have my old room."

Eric appears aghast, but I don't know why. Why else did he think she showed up here? Sometimes males are just oblivious. He avoids looking at Sookie and hurriedly commands, "My I-Pod."

Ever the obedient child, I fetch his I-pod, though I have no idea why he wants to listen to music now. His purpose becomes clear, however, when he takes the ear buds and places them into Sookie's ears. "Little one, I know that you can't go into another room now, because the voices will hurt you. Is this correct?"

Sookie nods in agreement.

"Well, Pam and I need to talk about grown-up things privately for a moment, so I want you to listen to the music ok?"

Before Sookie can even nod her assent, I hear music begin to play. _Uhh, uh uh uh. It's big pimpin baby…_

As soon as the volume is adjusted to the highest setting, Eric lays into me. "What the fuck Pam? You are acting as though you believe that I should raise this child!"

I shrug, "You have done it before."

"Times were different back then. Men hardly had anything to do with caring for the children. I told them stories sometimes and had begun to train Anir on the sword, but that was as far as my child rearing went." His eyes take on a frantic gleam that I've never seen on his face before.

I simply shrug again, "I wasn't even talking about your human children. I was talking about me!" Obviously!

He looks at me as though I am insane and states sarcastically, "Oh yes, you are correct! I'm sure it is exactly the same. Do you think I should begin by burying her in the ground for 3 days or should I skip that part and go straight to hunting? Without the fangs, biting will be a bit more difficult, but I'm sure we'll manage."

I growl, "You are such an asshole." I can't manage much else, because he might have the smallest of points.

Correctly guessing my thoughts, he smiles and says, "See, you don't even have a response to that because you know how ridiculous the idea of me having a human child is."

I hiss back, "It's not ridiculous! Besides, she said that she couldn't go live with the humans." And didn't he see how upset she was about it? Not that I cared about such worthless human emotions…

"Ok Pam, if you want her so bad, why don't you take her?" His tone is so smug that I know he thinks he has ended our discussion. Well, guess again master!

Without even a second's thought I reply, "You know what, have it your way. I'll keep her!"

"What?" Gob smacked – that's what he his. Ha, fucking, ha!

"I had a cat that one time, it can't be that different." Can it? I put on my "confident bitch face" so my uncertainty doesn't show.

He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it. "If I recall correctly, your cat died because you went on a vacation and forgot to leave food out for it. That's very encouraging Pam."

Shit, he had to bring that up! I sass back, "Sophia talks, so she can remind me to feed her. And look how small she is; I bet she doesn't need much food anyway." That should take care of that. Plus, she's small enough that I wouldn't even need to lose one of my rooms; I could just stick her in the walk-in closet in the guest room. Though, I suppose it would be fun to decorate for a girl. I'm sure they have pink furniture for such purposes…

While I'm already listing the pros and cons for various room themes, my maker seems to be stuck on disbelief. "You can't even get her name right! How exactly are you supposed to raise her?"

"I can get her name right! I'm just changing it because no child of mine will be called Sookie. Sophia sounds much more sophisticated." Eric's eyes bulge when he finally realizes that I'm quite serious.

Eric lowers his voice and starts speaking to me as though I'm some human he's trying to talk down from a ledge. "I don't understand why you want a child. You normally hate them. I promise you can visit Sookie at her grandmother's house. How does that sound?"

I shake my head no and reply, "I like this one – she smells good and can do fun tricks." And think of all the cute little outfits! She'll be the best pet ever!

"Smells good? Is that what this is about?" He looks livid now. "I absolutely forbid you to bite her Pamela!"

I'm actually getting angry; I don't want to bite Sookie. Much. So I huff, "I'm not going to bite her Eric! You've been telling me not to bite children for almost 140 years now. Message received. But children are always falling down and getting injured, surely you wouldn't begrudge me a lick or two?"

His gaze becomes more assessing as he orders, "As your maker, I command you not to intentionally injure Sookie in any way. No 'accidentally' tripping her on the sidewalk. No 'unfortunate mishaps' with the scissors. I swear, I'll be on you like wine on rice."

His mauling of the phrase only enhances my growing anger, because I know that if Ginger was here he'd be one point closer to victory. I'm about to rip into him when I realize that he has cause to be suspicious. How can he understand the effect the girl is having on me? I don't really even understand it myself – I just know that I must help her. So, I let go of my anger and meet his eyes, "It's white on rice. The saying is WHITE on rice. See what I mean, you're always getting them wrong! Besides, I wasn't going to hurt her anyway. If she scars up, it would completely ruin her looks." My tone is joking, as usual, but the feelings that I'm sending through our bond are not. I know that Eric can see I'm not letting this go unless he makes me.

Eric shuts-up and stares at me for a few moments. The only sounds I hear are Sookie's calm, steady breaths and that horrid rap music coming from the I- pod. _Comin straight up out the black bar-rio, makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe. Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh, Oops, my bad, that's my scenario..._

Finally, Eric gives a barely perceptible nod.

I walk over to Sookie, rip out the ear buds, and proudly state, "Come on my little bon-bon, let's go. I'm going to be your adoptive maker."


	5. Chapter 5

******AN: Dearest friends, I have not abandoned you; my computer has met the true death! Please weep for my 5-year-old Mac Book… I am currently writing on the computer of the family that I nanny for and I'm about 3 glasses of wine in (hooray 8pm bedtime) so excuse the multitude of errors that are bound to follow. I adore you all!**

**In addition, I don't own Pam, Eric, Amy, or Sookie. Charlaine Harris does. Please don't rub it in, I'm not emotionally stable at the moment…**

**Dr. Amy Ludwig P.O.V**

"I dunno how it happened Miss Doctor Ludwig ma'am. I was jus' leanin' over a fresh deer we kilt an' then Felton came over to celebrate an' then bam – I got me this baby in my belly!"

I can't help it; I take the phone away from my ear and glare at it. I swear, I'm done working with the panthers of Hotshot. D.O.N.E. I don't care if they can manage the payments. Absolutely nothing is worth this amount of stupid.

"Crystal, I believe what happened is the same thing that happened the other five times. You are pregnant. Take the vitamins I gave you and call me if anything new occurs." I hang up before she can respond, but less than a minute passes before the phone rings again.

"Dammit, it's gas! What did I tell you about broccoli?" I yell into the phone. Harsh, I know, but I delivered fire-breathing demon twins this morning and I'm due for a nap.

"I don't have to deal with human ailments like flatulence and don't even remember what broccoli is. Is this Dr. Ludwig?" I hear a bored-sounding female reply.

Oh wonderful – a blood sucker. Just what I needed to make this day extra great. I answer, "Yes, this is Dr. Ludwig. I only take vampire patients in cases of silver poisoning. If you need blood, I suggest you call the local Red Cross... " I don't even finish before I get interrupted by the voice.

"I'm not calling for me. I just got a new pet and something appears to be wrong with her. I expect you here within the hour. This is Pamela Ravenscroft, by the way." I don't even manage a grunt before I hear the dial tone.

Mother Fucker.

I absolutely loathe vampires and normally wouldn't respond to one, especially not one that had the audacity to hang up on me. Me! As if she had the right! But I know that this Pamela is the child of the Northman, and you'd have to be Hotshot-stupid to mess with the Sheriff.

Taking my continued wellbeing into consideration, I begrudgingly pack up my medical bag. I make sure to pack scissors and lubricant, since the last time Ms. Ravenscroft requested my presence there was an incident involving nipple clamps. I wonder what it could be this time: A stripper stuck to her pole? Handcuffs that won't come off? A whip lash that cut a bit too deep?

Who says that being a doctor isn't sexy?

After I'm packed, I think about the vampire's house and picture her red front door. Within seconds, I've teleported and am knocking furiously. Just because I have to be here, doesn't mean that I have to be nice about it. I hear a droll, "Come in" and teleport myself inside.

Once in, truthfully, I'm in no way prepared for what I see.

I expected a leather-wearing brunette dominatrix or maybe a fair-haired go-go dancer. I did not expect to find myself being stared at by two blondes – a vampire and a tiny human – both in pink and purple velour sweats.

"Wow! Are you an elf? Did Santa send you, because I've been mostly good this year," says the small one.

"I'm no elf, and for that you can be thankful. It isn't all toy workshops and shoes and hidden cookie factories you know. I'm a doctor …and I'm here to see you?" The last part came out as more of a question, but honestly, I'm at a loss. I know for a fact that the Northman forbids feeding from children in his area. It has been a rule in his domain since before the revelation, one of the reasons that I respect him as much as I fear him. Surely he hasn't made an exception for his progeny?

Pamela finally speaks, "Ludwig, this is my new human. I've had her for three days and something is already wrong with her. Fix her now!"

I walk closer to the child and discover right away that the "human" isn't human at all. She smells like a fairy! Not a full fairy but at least a Halfling by the smell of her. Oh shit!

"So, err, human child." And I may have put a bit too much emphasis on the human part, but I was doing my best. A fairy child kept as a vampire pet! This could start a war! "What seems to be wrong, human?"

"A strange sound is coming from her and she seems to be very tired. I thought about giving her my blood, but I don't know how it would affect one of her kind." Pamela interjects before the girl can answer.

"Her kind?" I ask, and it sounds fake even to my own ears.

"Like you haven't noticed! Do you know what she is?" Pamela advances toward me with narrowed eyes.

"I really hadn't noticed anything. So, what is the sound?" I think I'm actually sweating. I haven't been this nervous since my first day on the job.

"It's just my belly growling. I'm hungry!" says the tiny Fae time-bomb.

"Have you been feeding her after you take her blood?" I ask, fishing for information while simultaneously praying not to get any.

Pamela's eyes grow so narrow that I'm looking into little slits. "I don't take blood from her, and I've feed her every morning! I bought these hard grain bars at the grocery store that claim to have a day's worth of vitamins in each serving. She should be perfectly healthy!"

"Those are nasty and they aren't enough food," the little one pleads with me "Every time I ask for more she tells me that I won't be a part of America's obesity epidemic. I don't even know what that means! I just want some Lucky Charms and a hamburger!"

"Ms. Ravenscroft, human children," I can't help but emphasize the "human" again, "Need to feed at least three times a day and require a variety of foods. I can provide you with a list of healthy foods if you require it." I dig through my bag and find a pamphlet that I normally give to Fae mothers in the human world. I use my surgical scissors to discretely separate the grocery list portion from the rest of the brochure.

"Okay, enough already!" Pamela huffs. "I was only trying to help her. I saw an advertisement on television and the human first lady warned about feeding children too much. Are you sure that is all?"

"Yes, for now. How long do you plan on keeping this human?" Dammit, I said human again! It's like I can't control my tongue!

"She's mine indefinitely." Pamela says as the girl replies, "She's my mistress forever and ever! And she says I'm even gonna get my own room soon so that I don't have to sleep next to the shoes!"

"Oh, Hell!" I think, but I say, "Wonderful! I have to be going now, I'll send you my bill."

In a flash I'm gone, and find myself in the middle of a room with gold walls and a crystal ceiling.

"State your purpose," says a voice from above.

"Dr. Amy Ludwig here to see the Prince, there's a matter of great importance we need to discuss."


End file.
